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A Short Story About my Doctors Visit

Dear Reader,

So, today is my first visit to the my regular doctor post breakdown and post medication increases. I am not looking forward to this appointment.

This isn’t a great week for me, in two days it will be my birthday, I don’t like birthdays. In fact, I hate them. I have never enjoyed my birthday. But this is a piece I should write on my actual birthday. Currently I am still in bed. Its 12pm, I’m not going to move until 2:15pm, when I will drag some clothes from the floor get dressed and wander to the doctors. Then I will journey into the city center to visit a new chemist and hopefully not be patronised. And then I will have dinner with a friend because my post doctors happiness will have kicked in and I will act like regular old happy me. The masked me instead of the real me.

So what to do in the time before my appointment as I still have two hours to wait! I’ll probably just lie here and listen to some music, which is difficult as we are having some work done to the fascia and front of the house. Currently a workman is knocking our canopy down over our door, not taking it down like a normal person, literally knocking it down. “BANG, BANG, BANG” At least I didn’t want to sleep! Good job I have ridiculously loud headphones.

As suspected from my internet research about zopiclone my doctor was reluctant to re-prescribe. In fact, it was the first thing he said after “What can I do for you?” I said “I’ve come for some more antidepressants and sleeping pills and he automatically said “I’m not going to prescribe any more zopiclone.” I didn’t kick off about it, by the time I finally got into see him I was feeling pretty numb, so I just said “ok” I mean, I understand, I don’t want to be addicted to them but I need to be able to sleep, and the doctors don’t seem to want to even consider other options. We talked about how often I took them, (only when I didn’t have to be up early for work) why I took them (because I can’t sleep, obviously) and we agreed he would give me just 10 more, but told me I was only to use them if I absolutely had to.

He gave me a month of fluoxetine, I guess they are still worried I’m going to kill myself. I didn’t talk much during this appointment, he mostly just sat there typing on his keyboard whilst I fiddled with my bag strap in an awkward “I am not enjoying this” way. I hate having to ask for help, and I hate that about depression and I hate having to see the doctor once a month or every two weeks. Because I hate having to go in there and having to ask for help, to ask for pills to make me function. I was sitting in silence when he printed off my prescriptions and handed them to me, I could tell by the look on his face that he knew my silence was unnatural for me. I said thank you and left.

When I left his office, I tried to book an appointment for a monthstime but as usual the less than helpful receptionists talked to me for 5 minutes about when I wanted an appointment (I told her the date) she said my doctor was away for two weeks so I said “fine ill see another doctor” only for her to eventually say “we don’t book appointments that far ahead” What exactly the point of making me discuss dates and times with her was, I will never know.

I was feeling pretty numb when I left, not the post doctor happiness I usually feel, maybe because I know they are not going to give me these sleeping pills next time and I’m a little sad and disappointed about it, but also probably because I hate depression and what it does to my brain. I know when my mood dips like this that I shouldn’t be alone. I decided to try a new pharmacy so I arranged to meet up with a friend as I didn’t need to be anywhere until 630 and I wasn’t so sure it was good to be alone. My moods have been cycling quite frequently and to be honest its worrying me a little. Well, I spent some time with my friend, we went to the pharmacy to pick up my pills, this pharmacist was the opposite to my usual patronising visits infact she seemed kind of annoyed to be serving me. Usually I would have been happy about this, but today I really didn’t need anything to add to the craptacular day I was already having, so I have stored her abruptness in my brain for later where I can bring it out and remind myself that even people I have never met before then I am a waste of space.

After having dinner, my friend left I still had 40 minutes until I needed to be anywhere so I went to work. On my only day off this week I ended up at work. Like I said before, I was here because I need to be somewhere I at least feel a little wanted sometimes, and of course it means I’m not alone. I was reminded how sad (pathetic) I was for being at work on my only day off. But it’s ok, because I know I’m sad (pathetic), but id rather be sad (pathetic) than dead, so I think it’s in everyones best interest if I stick to being “sad”.

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9 thoughts on “A Short Story About my Doctors Visit”

Yup–would definitely rather be sad than dead. I know exactly what you mean by that. With my jobs it’s the opposite; I don’t really feel wanted at either one of them. And I’m supposed to go to a Social Event tonight, but the thought of that exhausts me as I don’t know anyone who’ll be there (literally, I am new in town) except one person to whom a mutual friend introduced me through e-mail. So, having to summon the energy to go and interact with people I don’t know, but at least some of whom know each other, at a place I’ve never been.

Honestly, it is better that I go. I do better when around friends / gatherings. When I feel like I’m part of a community. Otherwise I sit around and waste time and then feel like shit + an idiot. A shitty idiot. A shidiot, you might say. It’s just that forcing myself up and out can be really arduous under the most delightful circumstances. I would rather stay at home with my wife and play a board game and not go out. Emotionally speaking, that is. Intellectually, I know it’s better for my emotions to go out and make new friends with similar interests.

I’m still not completely convinced that this–the need to be around other people–is not just emotional trickery, to keep me from falling backward into a pit of depression and despair and &c &c. But, just as it’s better to be sad than dead, I reckon it’s better to be surrounded by people with whom you’re at least trying to forge some sort of a connection than alone and wishing you weren’t.

Also, reading and responding to blogs whose topics are depression and suicide is one way to feel connected & better. Though I’m sure you know this.

When I moved back to the UK from the USA in summer 2013, the amount of daylight hours aside from jet lag was killing me. I was also prescribe zopiclone on a short term basis, and shortly had to go back for another round. It got me back on track. However….I do take seroquel for schioaffective disorder. I heard it can be used in very very low doses for sleep issues, and it is nothing like valium or ativan, or a sleeping pill. Perhaps you could mention this to him.

You have done well! Asking for help is very hard and you’ve done it. Remember depression is an illness. Anything you do to help yourself feel better is vital, no matter what others think. You do not sound pathetic to me, just honest, and that takes courage too. Take care of yourself

I totally get this! Thanks for sharing! I get those moods at my psychiatrist. It’s like all this build up and worry, writing everything down I want to mention, going over and over it so I don’t forget and then I get there and I’m numb. Not worth the effort of trying. I’m lucky he takes the time to ask questions but he always asks that same thing every time. What can he do for me? Or what brings me here? And I’m like, I’m suppose to be here. We have an appointment. I was finally diagnosed with fibromyalgia from my PCM but my psychiatrist has been treating me for it for almost a year so I feel lucky to have him on my side but it’s frustrating how my whole mood is wrapped around the visits!